


the ties that bind

by oh_la_fraise



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Schitt's Creek
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:01:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22963564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_la_fraise/pseuds/oh_la_fraise
Summary: Charles goes to visit the Schitt’s Creek Boyles.  The rest of the 99 comes along for the ride.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 74





	the ties that bind

**Author's Note:**

> Came across this fantastic [gifset](https://ohlafraise.tumblr.com/post/185830630051/amystiago-schitts-creek-brooklyn-nine-nine-oh) again.

Charles has been talking about the Canadian leg of his Boyle reunion road trip for weeks by the time the others get involved. He manages to convince Gina to come along, and then Jake and Amy join, because Jake hasn’t gotten to see Gina much since she became famous, and Amy wants to see an exhibit on polyester at the Canadian Textile Museum that _Slacks Weekly_ called _recommended._ Then Rosa joins, because she wants to see the dumpster fire this trip is going to be in person, and Terry gets involved because between Lieutenant duties and the twins convincing Ava that the tooth fairy is stealing bits of her soul, he’s wound tighter than Jake’s hamstring the last time he fell out of the ceiling. Holt comes because there’s an exhibit on polyester at the Canadian Textile Museum that the _Journal of American Haberdashery_ raved about as _interesting_. Hitchcock and Scully come along because—well, no one actually invites them, but someone mentions that Twyla runs a restaurant and they emerge from the luggage in the back of Terry’s van three hours into the trip. 

Schitt’s Creek isn’t much to look at—it’s pretty much just one short road with a few buildings scattered around—but they head to the . . . established motel at the edge of town. “ _This place is haunted,”_ Scully says under his breath as an admittedly very ashy girl checks them in, and Rosa elbows him in the stomach. 

They head to the restaurant that Boyle’s cousin owns, which turns out to be more of a cafe that she works at. The cafe is . . .quaint, is the best way to describe it. A friendly looking woman approaches them, and her eyes go wide. “Charles?”

“Twyla!”

They hug, pulling each other close, and muttering the customary Boyle _I love you._ Eventually, they pull apart, and Twyla beams. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

And that pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the day. 

~

“Can I . . .get you anything?” Stevie asks tentatively, staring at the American police captain _camped out in her lobby_. There’s a bag of emergency weed sour straws in the bottom of the couch cushion, and she prays this isn’t a Princess and the Pea situation.

His eyes flick up at her and then back down at his phone. “No thank you. My colleagues have instructed me to ‘relax,’”—here he makes air quotes—“as we are on a recreational trip.” It dings, and lets out a cheery _Cupcake Match!_

“Is that. . .Kwazy Cupcakes?” she asks. On the one hand, he looks like someone who views chess as a game for children, but on the other, she knows that sound.

He looks back up at her. “You are familiar?”

She shrugs, gestures around the _super_ busy lobby. “I have a lot of time to entertain myself.”

“Hmm.” He doesn’t smile, exactly, but he looks a little like he’s trying. “Tell me,” he looks at her name badge, “Stevie, have you beaten the Licorice Landfill level?”

“That one took me three days.” She holds out her hand. “I can try, if you want?”

~

“Huh,” says Jake off-handedly, watching where the Boyle-Sands clan is discussing whether it’s possible to get frozen tripe for the menu. “You look familiar.” 

_Alexis-with-an-A_ somehow manages to twirl her hair while still bringing both of her hands to her chest and bouncing them. “Aw, that’s like, so sweet! Um, I had a brief stint as Johnny Depp’s girlfriend before I aged out of the role; maybe you know me from that?”

Jakes shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. . .actually, you look like a suspect in a hardware store robbery I investigated back in Brooklyn.”

“Oh?” says Alexis nonchalantly. Her hands have stopped bouncing.

“Yeah, that case _traumatized_ me, it was so bizarre,” Jake says, talking more to Amy. “Whoever did it conned her way in by pretending to be Swedish royalty and then stole all the carbon monoxide detectors and a giant inflatable reindeer. It’s one of the weirdest cases I’ve worked to this day, and I was assigned to that graffiti case where the guy kept painting his Grandmother’s life alert.”

“Well isn’t that funny,” Alexis says and boops him on the nose. “Anywhere, I have somewhere to be, so. . .” She practically _sprints_ away in what are very tall shoes. _This town is weird,_ Jake thinks.

~

Ronnie is waiting for David to arrive—apparently Patrick doesn’t know the soap she likes, even though she buys the same soap _every time—_ when one of the Brooklyn cops come in. It’s a small town, and he has a very active text chain with Stevie; it’s not hard to know they’re the entourage of one of Twyla’s many family members. At least, that’s their cover story; David is still convinced Gwen is running a mafia enforcement business out of the garage, and he’s half got Patrick believing it.

The cop is pretty—he can see Ronnie eye her casually, even though she’s probably a good ten years younger—but she’s also scary looking as fuck, wearing a scowl that could terrify Satan himself. She frowns. “It smells like a witches’ armpit in here.”

“Hah,” Ronnie says, not subtle at all. “That’s funny.” The cop and Ronnie pivot to him at the same time, the same evil smirk on their faces. 

Patrick’s breathing starts speeding up. Oh God. There’s two of them. 

~

Terry kicks back in the bucket chair outside of his room. Sure there’s no pool, but Vacation Terry doesn’t care; he’s going to sit in his swim trunks and get sun regardless. The 99 seems to be the majority of the customers at the motel, but eventually a woman walks out of a room a few doors down from his. She smiles at him. “Hello. So nice to see the motel teeming with adventurous sojourners.” 

Terry blinks. And blinks again. “Are you—are you _Moira Rose?”_

She turns and stalks toward him. “Why yes! And you are? Besides an ardent devotee, of course.”

“Lieutenant Terry Jeffords, ma’am. And I’m a _huge_ Sunrise Bay fan. Vivian Blake’s arc as an undercover animal control officer made me want to go into law enforcement!” He pauses. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I get an autograph?” He starts digging in his pockets for a receipt or something.

She smiles. “Of course. And no need to scrounge for loose paper, dear. I have a series of beauteous headshots in my abode. Come come.”

Terry considers. On the one hand, a black man following a white woman into a remote motel room is how a lot of horror movies start. On the other hand, _Moira Rose._ He’s got enough muscles he’s comfortable taking his chances. 

~

Meanwhile, another celebrity dream is being realized. Hitchcock and Scully have followed their noses to where the barbecue is smoking behind the motel. The serious man in the suit— _Johnny Rose; I’m the manager—_ has all but been forgotten. Hitchcock stares like he’s meeting God. “ _You’re_ ShootToGrill374?”

Roland puffs his chest out. “That’s me.”

“He _revolutionized_ the Swanson hot dog cooking method. He’s famous on all the chat rooms,” Scully explains to a confused looking Johnny.

“What chat rooms?” Johnny asks. “Also, what’s a chat room?”

_~_

David slaps Patrick’s arm, and then slaps it again, because holy shit, _Gina Linetti_ just walked into his store, and Patrick is still fiddling with the receipt printer. “Oh, welcome to Rose Apothecary,” he says, barely looking up. “David will be right with you.” Here he glares at David and finally seems to clue in to the fact that something is happening.

David hurries around the counter. Should he bow? He shouldn’t bow, probably. “Ms. Linetti,” he says, “we here at Rose Apothecary are big fans.”

“Of course you are,” says _Gina Linetti,_ pulling off her sunglasses. Even in his rich-person days, he never had much leverage with celebrities of her status. And now she’s walked into his store in the middle of nowhere? “I would expect nothing less from such a fabulously and carefully crafted venue.” And of course _Gina Linetti_ can recognize his vision. 

When she leaves, David watches her leave down the block. Patrick, who David had forgotten was still there, clears his throat. “So she didn’t actually buy anything.” 

“I’m never washing this hand again,” David says.


End file.
